


False Starts

by evil_brainmate



Series: Hartwin Week [1]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Divorced Character, Dysfunctional Family, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-15 01:09:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4587258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evil_brainmate/pseuds/evil_brainmate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For Hartwin Week Day 1: "First Time"</p><p>The first time Eggsy meets Harry's son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	False Starts

**Author's Note:**

> Written quickly and unbeta'd. My apologies for any mistakes.

If there's one thing Eggsy wishes he could fault Harry for it's the man's unpredictability in regard to social norms. Granted, Harry caring about such things means he wouldn't be dating _Eggsy_ of all people, but he also wouldn't be dragging Eggsy along into shit that's guaranteed to blow up in their faces.

Like sitting in a posh restaurant, where Eggsy can only pronounce one damn thing on the menu, waiting to meet his boyfriend's son who just so happens to be older than Eggsy himself.

Harry levels a glare at Eggsy when the young man starts tapping his fingers on the tabletop, but it doesn't have the intended result as Eggsy mumbles a “Sorry” and instead starts chewing on his thumbnail.

“Y'know, it's not to late for me to slip out through the kitchens,” Eggsy says while gesturing over his shoulder.

“That won't be necessary,” Harry replies. “Quentin should be arriving any moment.”

“Thought you two didn't get along anyway.”

“He's always been fonder of his mother, but we do try to keep things civil and meet up once or twice a year.”

“And you think it's a good idea to bring me?” Eggsy laughs. “I'm sure his mum has money and you sent him to like Oxford or something.”

“Of course. He attended Oxford's medical program,” Harry replies as though every parent pays for a fancy education and swank apartment for their spawn.

Eggsy snorts and takes a sip of water because fuck propriety. He's sick of waiting around with his nerves wearing thin.

True to Harry's word, Quentin arrives within a few minutes and the hostess escorts him to their table. Eggsy doesn't think it's just his imagination when Quentin's eyes travel up Eggsy's form, clearly unimpressed.

It figures Harry's son would be a right tosser.

“Hello Father,” Quentin says as he takes his seat across from Harry, completely ignoring Eggsy.

“Quentin. You've been well I hope?” Harry asks, and Eggsy wishes he would just quit with the small talk shit. It's obvious Harry isn't reprimanding Quentin about his poor manners in hopes of easing the impending conversation. Or maybe Harry just doesn't acknowledge his son's faults; people get fuckin' weird about their kids.

Quentin dominates the brief conversation until the waitress returns to take their drink orders, and Eggsy decides he's going to need all the alcohol he can get if the rest of the night is going to be like this.

When the waitress leaves, Harry takes advantage of the momentary silence. “Quentin, I would like to introduce you to Eggsy,” Harry says.

“Eggsy?” Quentin scoffs.

“I know it's weird,” Eggsy replies with a smile, not bothering to cover his working class accent. He's used to people's reactions to his name by now, so he simply owns it.

“And what is it you do, Eggsy?” Quentin asks.

It takes every ounce of gentlemanly decorum Eggsy possesses to not immediately reply with _'Your dad'_.

“I'm an apprentice at Kingsman. Working to become a proper tailor,” he replies smoothly, his cover more of a second skin after the many months since he became a Kingsman.

“A coworker?” Quentin asks looking to Harry for affirmation.

“I mentioned recently that I have been seeing someone for quite a while now,” Harry explains. “Well, I thought I should introduce you two.”

“How long is a while?”

“A bit over a year now,” Harry replies.

“I don't—how old are you even?” Quentin sputters, focusing on Eggsy.

“Twenty five,” Eggsy replies.

Quentin turns on Harry like a viper. “Father you can't be serious,” he hisses. “This is a joke.”

“Why would I joke about this Quentin?”

“Because it's preposterous! He's half your age for God's sake.”

“We are both aware of that.” Harry's expression is completely neutral, and if the verbal barbs hit there mark, no one without a spy's training would be able to tell. Eggsy knows that Harry's kid has just hit the one insecurity Harry has held since the beginning of their relationship.

“So you couldn't find a wife and decided to start playing sugar daddy to some rent boy?” Quentin spits.

Harry's only reaction is stunned silence, and that is fucking it for Eggsy. He doesn't care what Quentin's issues are with Eggsy's age. No one gets to fucking imply that Eggsy is some whore or that Harry would buy him.

“That's enough of that,” Eggsy growls and leaps out of his seat, startling the waitress who is returning with their drinks. “We're gonna step outside and have a word, mate.”

“Eggsy-” Harry admonishes.

“Politely. Harry darling, settle the check and apologize to the staff,” Eggsy says, his own words crisp like frost in his veins when he gestures towards the door. “This way if you please Quentin.”

Quentin hesitates, looking from his father to Eggsy and back, but Harry offers no reassurance while he speaks to the waitress about their check. Quentin huffs and follows Eggsy to the coat check and then outside, head held high as if it's his idea.

“Seriously, what the hell's wrong with you?” Eggsy asks when they step outside of the restaurant.

“Says the bloke dating a man old enough to be his father,” Quentin snarls back.

“Older than my dad actually. They were old friends, just to give you a better visual.”

Eggsy doesn't say another word, content to let Quentin soak in his comment and traumatize himself. They've gathered a few curious glances though, so Eggsy carefully hooks his arm around Quentin's shoulders and guides him towards the alley next to the restaurant.

“What? You going to rough me up?” Quentin huffs when he sees where they're headed. “Just shows my father buying you expensive suits and dinners doesn't change the fact that you're a chav bastard.”

“Y'know, I really don't like that word. But nah. I ain't gonna hurt you. Now back on the estate we'd shank toffs like you for a lot less than the disrespect you showin',” Eggsy drawls as he fixes Quentin's collar. He knows he's not a good person and he isn't above a bit of intimidation, but he'd never stoop to Dean's level and lay a hand on someone helpless even if they are a right prick. “I just want you to understand that Harry is _everything_ , and he and my family is my entire world. You's Harry's flesh and blood. So, that makes you family.”

“Don't think I'll be referring to you as Dad anytime soon.”

“Don't give a fuck what you call me. Look you don't know me. You ain't gotta like me. Way I see it, you's a grown ass man who can decide whether or not he wants his dad around or not. But, I'm in love with Harry and if he's agreeable, I'm gonna marry him and take care of him for the rest of his life or until he decides he don't want me around. So if you speak to Harry that way again, you will never be welcome in my house, y'hear?”

Eggsy catches the distinct sound of Harry's oxfords on the pavement and slips a few steps back from Quentin as the man reaches the alley entrance.

“Eggsy, if you're quite done intimidating my son, I think we should let him be on his way,” Harry sighs.

“Please, Harry, how intimidating can I be?”

“Eggsy.”

“Yes, Harry,” Eggsy says and trots over to Harry's side like a well trained dog.

“Apologies for wasting your evening, Quentin,” Harry calls to his son who is still standing where Eggsy left him. “Give your mother my regards.”

“Father,” Quentin replies, seemingly regaining function in his legs. The man steps out of the alleyway and makes his way up the street.

“How the fuck you go and treat your own dad like that?” Eggsy asks after Quentin disappears into a black cab.

“I fear having an absentee parent does leave some wounds,” Harry sighs and wraps his hand around Eggsy's, guiding the young man in the direction of Harry's home.

“My dad was gone my whole life. I didn't turn into a tosser.”

“Not everyone is a fighter, Eggsy.”

Harry sounds so distant and slightly sad when he says it, and Eggsy wonders if Harry's exhausting himself trying to hold onto what little he can of his estranged family. Eggsy can't help but think of his mum and baby sister. No matter if people thought Eggsy should resent his mother for losing it after his Dad died or sticking with Dean, he can't do it. He can't imagine willingly cutting his own family out of his life.

“So, the night was a complete bust,” Eggsy says trying to change the subject.

“So it would seem. I suppose we'll have to make our own dinner.”

“Can we just pick up some take out?”

“What?” Harry quirks an eyebrow in amusement and looks over to Eggsy. “I thought you were planning to take care of me for the rest of our lives?”

“Shit...” Eggsy hisses as color rises up in his cheeks. “Look you weren't supposed to hear that okay? I was just... statin' my intentions.”

“So that's a no to dinner then? Shame.”

Eggsy huffs out a laugh at that and playfully smacks Harry's arm with his free hand, the other still entwined with Harry's even as they near their neighborhood.

“Oh, alright I'll make you dinner tonight and every night I'm home if I absolutely _have_ to.”

“Not every night,” Harry says. “I'm sure that would singlehandedly cause all of the carry out places in our neighborhood to go under.”

“Does that mean you're agreeing to become Mr. Unwin?” Eggsy asks, and okay maybe it's an absolutely shitty way to go about figuring out Harry's feelings on a second attempt at marriage, but the whole night has been a disaster anyway.

“I'm not sure take out and the promise of fine cooking in the future is enough to agree to changing my name,” Harry muses, as though he's actually mulling it over. They spend the rest of the walk in silence until they reach Harry's front porch, and Eggsy turns to Harry with eyes gleaming somewhat manically in the lantern light.

“Alright. I want a do-over,” Eggsy demands.

“A do-over?” Harry asks.

“That's right. Gimme a week and I'll be sure to figure out a proper proposal that won't embarrass us.”

“I don't know, I think I like this one just as well,” Harry says as he tips Eggsy's chin up and pulls the young man into a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me at [oggalahad](http://oggalahad.tumblr.com) on tumblr


End file.
